The Hiding Place Novel Novels & Stories

he replied. Mountain of Blossom? Where was that also located? I wanted to ask him, but I decided not to. Too many questions might expose my identity. I'm Marina... I'll try to figure out where it is. The most important thing was entering the territory. "Thank you," I smiled faintly and tried to step my feet inside the territory, but his hand clamped on my shoulder. My eyes widened. What does he want now? Did I perhaps smile too much and he figured out I'm a girl and definitely not a pack wolf? But the fragrant oil is strong enough to hide my rogue smell.

His hoodie became a symbol of both concealment and protection, a barrier between him and the harsh reality that awaited him should he step out from the shadows. As the ceremony drew to a close, and the mourners began to disperse, Alexander remained in his hidden sanctuary, his heart heavy with regret. He knew that hiding behind his hoodie was not a solution, but for now, it provided a temporary refuge from the harsh judgment and potential consequences that awaited him.

My secret, the one I’d buried so deep, was about to rise with the moon. I wanted to vanish. Suddenly, a memory struck me, Nicklaus's words to me that night. “This place,” he’d said, “no one comes here but me. It’s quiet and safe, you're officially the second person that knows about it.” The stream. The little hidden place just beyond the ridge, tucked behind the brambles and the stones shaped like crescent moons. No one else knew about it. It suddenly struck me. Maybe... maybe I could hide there until the night was over. Maybe no one would notice, not with the pack spread out through the forest.

Her legal training screamed at her to analyze, to react, but her personal history, her deep, old fears, just froze her. He turned. Their eyes met. Ethan. The well-known billionaire. Four years of hiding, building, pretending. It all shattered in that one moment. The simple, peaceful life she had painstakingly carved out for herself was suddenly fragile, exposed. His eyes, tired but sharp, widened. Then they looked at Clyde, who was holding up his own carved bird, just like the one in Ethan’s hand. Clyde, innocent and smiling, had a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.

Julian stepped inside. The room was lined wall to wall with walnut bookshelves, rows upon rows of leather-bound volumes, identical in size and finish, arranged with almost obsessive precision from top to bottom, left to right. He had a study at home with a similar look—but not because he cared about first editions or loved reading. It was camouflage. Behind those shelves was a hidden space, a place he used to stay out of his stepmother Serena’s line of sight. Not that it mattered anymore. She was already under investigation for money laundering and leaking company secrets. Prison was only a matter of time. She hadn’t been a threat to him for a long while.

I knew she would find a way to torment us and keep us from ever seeing the sun. I gave the sleeping form of Dresden a final look before she disappeared within my sight. We reached the bug out place Nick was talking about. He was right it was the perfect place for us to hide and spent the entirety of the night. It was underground, just a small hole. Unseen through the leaves and wooden cover that camouflaged it with the forest. Inside felt warmer and safer, though the uneasiness never leave me and all I could do was to dismiss it with a shake of my head.

No one cared about his desk anymore. Meanwhile, Miguel had already hidden the book near the old well, deep in the hill forest. Covered with stones and buried under loose earth. Natalie, Cielo, and Miguel blended in with the crowd of survivors, acting like they had lost everything. Just another family trying to escape a deadly fire. Natalie held onto her mother's hand as they walked away from the burning village. "Is it safe?" Cielo asked softly. Natalie nodded with a cold smile. "The book is hidden. Bruce will never find it. And now..."

kitchen—if it could be called that—was sparse. A three-legged table, chipped chairs, a tired stove, and a fridge clinging to half-spoiled cans. Gloom seemed permanent here. Even the sunlight felt weary. I warmed a can of beans and some processed meat over the last dregs of gas while Keli whined, pawing his empty bowl. His whimpers broke something in me. This wasn't a life. It was survival, at best. Hiding, grieving, remembering. I wasn't even sure what I was holding on for. The Nortons had taken everything. They called themselves protectors—guardians of the nation—but their uniforms were soaked in blood and greed. My parents were just two more names erased in their path. We used to live on

It tormented him, and me- I couldn’t lose another family either. I closed my box of treasured memories and put it under my bed. I moved back to the crib my landlady, Shauna had generously loaned to me when I moved in two days ago. She’d also given me a job in the diner at the ground floor of the building. When I arrived she gave me a once over like she was trying to read me. She probably thought I was a teenage run away who got reckless and then pregnant. It was one of the few times I wished I could still read minds. But I was glad she didn’t ask questions, I hated it when people asked too many questions. Secrecy and privacy was something I’d always preferred since I was five. But after leav

After dinner, I sneak back to the library. This time, not to read but to hide. I move the oldest texts I’ve been using deeper into the shelves, behind dustier books. I wedge them sideways so they’re harder to see from the front. If Theron comes back, I don’t want him finding anything easily. I pull out my worn satchel and hide my small notebook inside, wrapping it in cloth. Then I tuck the bundle beneath a loose floorboard under the second shelf, one I found weeks ago when I dropped a tray of ink.